Ali0205



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  1. Public Bookmark *

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    Cliff Marleau suddenly materialises at the table next to Ilya. The girl he was with before is still on the floor, now dancing with some other girls, probably the friends she came here with. “You’re actually here?” He asks, disbelieving.

    “Hello, Ilya. How are you, Ilya. It’s so nice to see you, Ilya.” Ilya responds, sarcasm dripping off every word, sliding his phone back into his pocket.

    “Yeah, yeah, sure. But like, you’re here.” Marleau dismisses him with a wave of his hand, leaning over him to reach for one of the beers. “Thought for sure you’d be with Jane, man.”

    In Ilya’s ear, Shane moans, all drawn out and breathy. “Fuck, Ilya.”

    Ilya smirks at Marleau. “Jane is busy at the moment, Marly.”

    OR:

    Ilya is out celebrating a win and he keeps coming up with reasons to stay later and later. The team finds this unusual cause he’d usually be racing to leave to meet up with Montreal Girl™.

    The team’s a little worried thinking Ilya somehow fumbled Montreal Girl™ and agreed to go along with his ideas.

    Meanwhile, Shane’s tied up on the bed with a vibrating buttplug that Ilya’s controlling on his phone.

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    27 Jun 2026

  2. Public Bookmark *

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    No serious hockey fan or sports commentator worth their salt would have considered record-breaking Boston superstar Ilya Rozanov to be Shane Hollander’s rival exactly, but sleeping with a man who had a specific offense-related vendetta against him and a wrist shot like a jet engine to back it up was probably ill-advised just the same.

    Or, Shane is a goalie. Ilya can’t score.

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    24 Jun 2026

  3. Public Bookmark 63

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    “Your first,” Ilya repeated slowly, his questioning, intense gaze pinning Shane like a moth to a board. Shane didn’t have to fake the heat in his face, the slight wanting tremble of his hands.

    “You know I’ve never let anyone fuck me.”

    He had tangible proof of the moment it clicked, because Ilya started battling for breath like the air had been punched out of him. Shane had filed away Ilya’s snarling possession and pride for years; his husband loved that he was the first man Shane had ever had sex with. He relished in it.

    He'd trusted Ilya enough to give it up once, and he could give it up again, immortalized on film.

    There were two crucial itemized lists that Shane drafted before the arrival of Ilya’s birthday. One contained everything he’d need to purchase before the party, because he’d forgotten ice last time and it haunted him.

    The other detailed all possible kinks and fantasies that Shane could weaponize to drive Ilya insane.

    Who would Shane Hollander be, if not the pinnacle of efficiency?

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    23 Jun 2026

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    It might have been easier to fall to his knees and beg for forgiveness. But his boyfriend was a dangerous thing right now, and God help him, Ilya couldn’t resist. He liked it when Shane’s sharp edges caught his soft sides, when all of his intensity bubbled onto the surface.

    “Did you want me to sign your tits too, Hollander?” he asked. “Make things even?”

    There was some saying about playing stupid games.

    Or: a drunken fan interaction was making its rounds on social media, and Ilya knew that apologies weren’t cheap.

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    23 Jun 2026

  5. Public Bookmark *

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    “Oh my god,” Ilya moaned out in relief. “Fuck, I’m pissing.”

    “I can feel it,” Shane moaned, his dick twitched on his belly. His hand was still resting on his bulge. The feeling of fullness increased rapidly as Ilya released inside of him. Soon the contents of two bladders were filling Shane as Ilya’s stream came to a halt. 

    ***
    Or: Shane takes control of Ilya's bladder and in the bedroom.

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    Language:
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    22 Jun 2026